


Turned into Disaster

by evil_brainmate



Series: Hartwin Week [3]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 12:18:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4606500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evil_brainmate/pseuds/evil_brainmate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hartwin Week Day 3: Based on a song</p><p>Eggsy uses an unusual method to reteach Harry some things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turned into Disaster

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. Based on Awolnation's song [Lie Love Live Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6oE-xOPHpY) (up until about the 3:20 mark) because these lyrics made me think of Hartwin fluff:
> 
>  
> 
> _I’ve been waiting here for hours_  
>  _Yeah I really love you so_  
>  _This has turned into disaster lately_  
>  _We’re the only ones who know_

It's not often that Harry and Eggsy have time to themselves outside of their hectic work schedules; so when they do have a break Eggsy does his damndest to court Harry properly. Office supposition has it that Harry's refined tastes and charm must make him an ideal romantic soul which is true to some extent. Harry is a gentleman who likes to wine and dine Eggsy and take him out for cultural activities, but it's more of a general preference of Harry's which most people perceive as romantic. Because when it comes down to it, Harry Hart is a man in his fifties who has had only a handful of “proper” relationships.

Given Eggsy's rough demeanor and lack of social graces, it never occurs to anyone that Eggsy is a dyed in the wool romantic and Eggsy himself is reluctant to disabuse anyone but Harry of those notions. He's got an image to maintain after all. That said, it's officially been six months since Harry settled into the position of Arthur, and the man cleared his final medical evaluation earlier this week so it looks like Harry will be keeping his initially tentative position within Kingsman. So, Eggsy spends an afternoon setting up a perfect, quiet evening for the two of them.

Harry comes home to find Eggsy waiting in the dining room with Harry's favorite meal set on the table, paired with a carefully selected bottle of wine, and a few flameless candles (Eggsy seemingly learned his lesson from the last time they forgot to snuff actual candles).

They are relaxing in the living room after dessert, and Eggsy stands up to place one of Harry's favorite records on the player. Everything seems to be going perfectly until Eggsy offers his hand to Harry and asks:

“Join me for a dance?”

Harry feels his guts twist at the request as he casts his mind about desperately searching for an excuse, but he can't come up with a satisfactory one in such short time.

“I... can't,” Harry mumbles hoping the subject will drop.

Eggsy's expectant expression dissolves into one of confusion at Harry's admission and he lets his hand fall to his side. “I know for a fact Kingsman trains their recruits in dance, Harry,” he says. “It's just us. I can even close the curtains if you're that embarrassed.”

“It's not that,” Harry sighs. “I mean I really can't.”

Eggsy doesn't say anything in response and looks even more confused than before.

“I was never much of a dancer even before,” Harry explains, gesturing toward the record player in a sweeping motion with his hand. “I could only get through it because I had the steps drilled into my brain as a child and I counted.”

“Before?” Eggsy asks. “You mean before V-Day? But I thought you'd made a full recovery.”

“Not quite,” Harry is pained to admit. It's an embarrassment for someone of his background to fail at such a simple task. Even worse to realize that his body and mind will never actually be fully functional after the trauma of his injuries. “All of my physio covered standard strength and motion, but you've seen my weapon and fighting scores—while excellent—aren't what they were. No one was terribly concerned about my dancing skills.”

“Well I am! How am I supposed to wine and dine ya if we can't go dancing?” Eggsy jokes, trying to bring some levity to the conversation.

“Eggsy don't be ridiculous.”

“Oh come on. I won't ask for nothin' crazy, just a couple turns about the livin' room,” Eggsy pleads extending his hand again. It's not that Eggsy himself is a spectacular dancer. He simply can't accept Harry's self-sabotage if there's the slightest chance that Eggsy could coach him into recovering even a fraction of Harry's skills or confidence.

“I'm going to step all over your feet,” Harry groans, but lets Eggsy heft him up from the couch.

“I'm willing to take that risk.”

“Of course you are.”

* * *

“This isn't working,” Harry sighs after he steps on Eggsy's toes for what must be the fifth time. He disengages from Eggsy's grip and stalks over to his liquor cabinet to pour himself some scotch, and hopefully drown his own disappointment in himself.

“That's cos you're fightin' me every step of the way Harry,” Eggsy replies, but he mercifully stops the record.

“I hear the music,” Harry hisses. “I know how it's supposed to go, but my bloody body just doesn't cooperate.”

“Alright, I got a fix for that.”

“Honestly I think it's a lost cause,” Harry sighs and takes a sip of his scotch, letting the flavor take the edge off the bitter taste in his mouth. He's getting used to lost causes these days. Months of training and he still can't match his previous combat scores. Months of recovery and his vision still wavers in his left eye with no sign of improvement.

“Just go with it,” Eggsy drawls as he slips the glass from Harry's hand and places it on top of the liquor cabinet. “If this doesn't work I'll hand you over to Merlin to retrain you.”

“You wouldn't dare,” Harry growls and levels Eggsy with an accusatory glare.

“I wasn't tryin' to threaten you?” Eggsy replies with genuine confusion written across his features. “I just thought you'd still need those skills. If you don't want to dance with me Harry I'll respect that. I just thought it would be kinda sweet.”

Harry's mouth pinches in unease as Eggsy trails off with a crestfallen shrug, but the young man is ultimately willing to agree to whatever Harry decides.

“Alright...” Harry concedes. “One last attempt to see if I'm completely hopeless.”

“Alright,” Eggsy says as he switches the stereo to connect with his phone and thumbs through his playlist. Harry is surprised that Eggsy isn't going to choose something from the record collection, but perhaps that is the point: To make Harry think less about what he's doing and 'just go with it' as Eggsy had mentioned.

“Now this song is... Well it'll try to fuck with you, so just follow my lead, okay? Don't think or try to count or nothin',” Eggsy continues, confirming Harry's suspicion.

“Seems counter productive if I can't follow the beat,” Harry replies. “Why not just practice without music?”

“Cuz I need to hear it to get the rhythm down. And well...” Eggsy's cheeks turn a pinkish hue as he adds: “It's a good song?”

“Alright.”

Eggsy smiles and gestures for Harry to get into position. Harry eyes him rather dubiously but steps into place, grasping Eggsy's free hand and setting the other on the young man's shoulder. Eggsy taps the play button on his phone, drops the device in his pocket and slips his hand to Harry's waist. He settles himself into position as he waits for the music to start.

He gently guides Harry through a few steps using the mellow guitar strums as a guide, smirking as he sees the gears in Harry's mind turning attempting to pick up the count and then it's promptly crushed when the beat picks up.

“Just focus on me,” Eggsy purrs as he keeps steady the sway of their bodies around the room. Harry sighs but just nods and follows Eggsy's lead through the chorus and allows himself to pay attention to the rather simplistic lyrics. It's not the sort of song he would have picked, but he supposes it's rather to Eggsy's taste and he could find himself enjoying it.

“Can't say I see myself dancing to music like this at many formal occasions,” Harry observes.

Eggsy lets out an amused huff at that and asks, “Is it sad that the moment I first heard this song, I uh... Thought about this?”

“Dancing?”

“With you. Here,” Eggsy admits, his face turning an even brighter blush than before.

“You fantasize about dancing with me in our living room? That's rather amusing,” Harry scoffs, earning a light smack in the arm from Eggsy for the comment. “I will say though, I have no idea what is going on now,” Harry adds as the song completely changes melody, but he and Eggsy are still settled close together turning around the room.

“Yeah... Sorry. This guy does that a lot with his stuff,” Eggsy explains. “Good news though: You ain't steppin' on my feet.”

“An astounding achievement indeed,” Harry speculates.

“Hmmm. Think you would be able to try a different song?”

“Not tonight, but soon. We might have to start with this though.” Harry would never admit it, but he would rather not ruin the moment by attempting and failing another dance.

“Think we can manage that,” Eggsy agrees. “Soon enough I'll ask you to lead.”

“Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves now.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @[oggalahad](http://oggalahad.tumblr.com)


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